


Lean on me

by Musingsofthesky



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: (most likely inaccurate) mentions of how business trips work, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Nightmares, Sickfic, Vomiting, soft batdad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 21:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21143144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musingsofthesky/pseuds/Musingsofthesky
Summary: He hadn’t exactly feltfinethis morning when he dragged himself out of bed, but Tim remembered having the distinct thought that he would be able to tough it out for the duration of the four day trip he had planned with Bruce. Even if he was a little sick.He was starting to have second thoughts about that now.





	Lean on me

The glass was cool against his pounding headache. Tim slumped further in the plush seat of the private jet and wondered, not for the first time, if this was really a good idea. He hadn’t exactly felt _fine_ this morning when he dragged himself out of bed, but Tim remembered having the distinct thought that he would be able to tough it out for the duration of the four day trip he had planned with Bruce. Even if he was a little sick. 

He was starting to have second thoughts about that now. Tim watched Bruce through the window as he conversed easily with one of the pilots outside, but closed his eyes when another wave of dizziness washed over him. 

Maybe he should have cancelled. Stayed home and recovered while catching up on paperwork. Bruce would be more than able to handle going to the conference on his own, he and Tim were really just there for show to make the reopening of the WE branch in LA official. Since all the negotiations and heavy lifting had been finalized for weeks, all that was left to do was sign the paperwork, smile for the cameras, and spend a couple of days making Official Wayne Appearances for the press. 

Nothing Tim couldn’t miss out on in favor of a little sleep. But…He hadn’t gotten the chance to see Bruce in forever. Between company work, casework, and juggling time spent with other family members, Tim really hadn’t spent much time with him at all in months. This trip was a great excuse to catch up with his adopted father, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been looking forward to it. 

The door to the cabin slid open, and Tim sat up, doing his best to look alert. Bruce was making his way over to him, and Tim didn’t want to ensure that the trip ended before it began by allowing Bruce to notice he was sick. Even if Tim was having doubts about his own condition, he knew Bruce would just send him home if he thought Tim was ill. 

So instead, Tim gave a tired grin to Bruce, who looked like he’d had a pretty late night himself as he sat down and immediately groaned at the sound of a joint popping. 

“I’m too old to be up this early,” he grumbled. Tim rolled his eyes. For someone who regularly sprinted through sewers and hurtled himself down ladders each night, Bruce could be so dramatic about the most normal of things.

Still, Tim decided to play along. “No one should be up this early. Eight in the morning is a hellish time to be out and about,” he meant every word, because mornings were the worst. But Tim felt a little vindicated with the knowledge that he wasn’t the only tired one right now. 

Well. Tired might be a bit of an understatement in his case. Tim was exhausted and sore and had a mounting headache that he doubted Bruce shared, but still. Shared suffering and all that.

“Hnnn,” Something in his tone must have caught Bruce’s attention, because he was studying Tim with a keen eye. Tim fought the urge to squirm in his seat, knowing he’d look guilty if he did.

“Late night?” Bruce finally asked. It was a loaded question that hung in the air. Bruce _ had _noticed something was off, but he didn’t know what. 

There was a little nagging voice in the back of his head, screaming that technically there was still time, they hadn’t taken off yet. He could make the smart choice, tell Bruce he was ill, and Tim would be free to go home and bury himself under the comforter he was sorely missing right about now. 

But then Tim imagined the prospect of spending the rest of the week hiding in his apartment, feeling sick and miserable all while regretting missing out on shared time with Bruce, and he promptly shoved that thought to the back of his mind. 

“I’m fine, just sort of tired. Definitely not a morning person,” he mustered up a smile, feeling a little guilty about the lie. But Bruce was apparently satisfied by the explanation, as he simply nodded and sat back.

Maybe this could work out after all. Tim could be smart about this. Sleep on the plane, stay hydrated, sneak in a quick nap before dinner with the board members tonight. He could handle it just fine, Bruce didn’t have to know. The floor beneath them rumbled and the wheels started moving. Tim settled back in his seat, decision made.

The plane took off. Tim pressed his face to the chilly window again to watch the ground move, relishing the fleeting feeling of being weightless even if it didn’t do anything to ease the swimming in his head. Sick or not, a complete aerial view of Gotham wasn’t something he saw everyday. 

Across from him, Bruce observed for a moment, then leaned his chair back as he shifted around and pulled out a laptop. “I’m going to get some files read before the meeting this afternoon. Let me know if you need anything Tim.”

“‘M’kay.” The city disappeared under the clouds, and Tim pulled the window covering down, there wouldn’t be anything visible through the fog for a while. That nap he was thinking of earlier sounded really nice, and there were certainly worse places to sleep than on the plane. He leaned against the side of the plane and closed his eyes. 

* * *

A hand on his shoulder woke Tim with a start. 

It was brighter in the plane than it had been when he fell asleep, and it took Tim a second to adjust his vision and focus on Bruce’s face. 

“Did we land already?” he asked blearily.

“Yes. Our bags are already loaded in the car, I came back to wake you up.”

He must be more tired than he thought, if he didn’t even wake up when the plane landed and Bruce left. Tim made a mental note to deal with that later, then followed him off the plane and through the airport, for once allowing Bruce to tousle his messy hair without dodging.

“Did they ever decide where dinner tonight is supposed to be?” the decision of where to eat had been a hotly debated topic in the office for the past few days, and Tim had long since stopped trying to keep up with it.

“Yes, finally.” Bruce spoke with the special tone of voice he reserved for cranky, stubborn preteens and petty board members, “We’re meeting at Providence,” 

“Wait, the fish place?” 

Bruce’s mouth thinned into a flat line. “Yes.” 

“You hate seafood though,” 

“Yes.” 

“This is just sad, B. The fact that you’re going to waste some high quality cuisine on your poor palate, just because you don’t want to admit to Lucius you’ve been throwing away the salmon tartare he keeps handing you at parties,”

The car pulled up and Bruce opened the door. “I don’t throw them away. I sneak them to Dick when he’s not looking,”

“My point still stands.”

“Don’t you have better things to do besides nag me?” 

Tim grinned at the easy, teasing tone. “I never do,” he replied, ignoring Bruce’s silent huff of exasperation. It was only partially untrue. Tim was using the back and forth banter with Bruce as a way to distract himself from the fact that although he had been asleep for nearly six hours, he somehow felt worse than before. 

He could probably add fever to his list of symptoms, as the mounting headache and dizziness of that morning were now accompanied by aching joints and a chill he couldn’t seem to shake. And Tim’s efforts to focus on the conversation with Bruce couldn’t distract him from the sensation that his thoughts were fuzzier than usual and his head seemed like it was swimming through molasses. 

His only consolation was that if Bruce had noticed anything, he still appeared to buy Tim’s excuse that he was just exhausted from a long week or so. That, and the fact that they were stopping to drop bags off at the hotel, where he could recharge for a couple of hours if he played his cards right. 

Tim turned his attention to his phone, answering a handful of missed Snapchats from Cass and Steph, before stuffing it back in his pocket and leaning forward in his seat.

“So Bruce, I was thinking. The intro meeting at the new office this afternoon, I don’t need to be there for that do I?”

Tim hoped that the unexpected subject change would seem more natural coming out than it did in his head, but was out of luck as he suddenly found himself facing the full weight of Bruce’s scrutiny. 

Sometimes trying to be sneaky could be really hard in this family. 

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “No, it’s more of a meet and greet to kick things off than anything else. You don’t have to be there if you don’t want to. Why? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s good,” Tim was quick to act casual and offer up false reassurances. “It’s just. I was going to go over some work while we were on the plane, but didn’t get around to it.”

“You must have been pretty tired to sleep as much as you did.”

“Like I said…late night,” Tim defended weakly. 

If Bruce was going to call him out at any point it was going to be now. He tried not to hold his breath as Bruce scrutinized his words, but after a long moment he relented. “Alright. It’s fine if you want to stay behind, but with the timing of the meeting it might be best for you to meet us for dinner at the restaurant. I’ll talk to the concierge about arranging a ride.”

“Cool.” The fewer things Tim had to think about, the better. He really didn’t want to deal with remembering to call a driver when he was feeling this crappy. 

The rest of the drive to the hotel went smoothly, and Tim jumped ahead to hold the elevator for Bruce on the way up. 

His joints were aching in the miserable way they always did when he was sick, and he fought to conceal his shivers as they walked through the chilly, air conditioned halls. Why did they even have the AC on so high anyway? It wasn’t like it was that hot out in _ November, _ Southern California or not. 

This is why Tim hated being sick. He was capable of pushing through discomfort, injury,and fatigue on the roughest of patrols, but as soon as Tim got sick he could never completely ignore how his joints twinged or his head swam at every movement.

The moment they were inside the room, Tim dropped his bags on the floor and made a beeline for the soft looking blanket at the foot of the nearest bed, sprawling out and dipping into the mattress slightly. Travelling with Bruce was the best. No hotel room Tim had booked by himself ever had a bed this comfortable. 

A few minutes later, Bruce was ready to go, dressed in a three piece suit and the soothing blue and grey tie Tim and Cass had picked out for him the year before. 

“Tim, are you sure you want to stay here? You’re still welcome to come with if you want to go out to lunch later.”

The thought was really nice, and it would have made Tim feel bad enough to reconsider his life choices if it weren’t far too late to come clean about why he really wanted to stay behind. 

“Really, I’m good Bruce. I’d rather stay behind and catch up on some work while I have the chance.” Tim also wanted to kick back a pain reliever, curl up in a blanket, and nap for another hour or two in the hopes it would magically make him feel better in time for the headache that dinner would bring.

Tim really did enjoy working at WE with Bruce and had looked forward to this trip for a while, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to pretend that the niceties and company politics involved were a part of that. Even if dinner tonight was sure to provide excellent entertainment in the form of Bruce barely eating seafood with a straight face, he definitely needed a couple hours of rest before then to properly enjoy it.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, but seemed to sympathize with his son’s desire to avoid another meet-and-greet while he could. His expression softened briefly before saying “Alright Tim, I’ll see you at dinner. Call me if you need anything.”

Tim waved a hand in farewell and Bruce left the room.

As soon as he heard the soft click of the door locking, Tim slumped down on the bed. Pretending to be well was more exhausting than it should have been, and he was cold and achy and _ really tired. _

He’d get up in a moment to take ibuprofen and drink some water, but right now the blanket was soft against his cheek, and Tim was more than content to let his foggy mind drift for just a moment before standing back up.

Tim’s eyes slid shut before long, and he was out without a second thought. 

* * *

_ Something was wrong. _

_ Tim was running, moving faster than he had ever run in his life with dread mounting in his gut and terror lapping at his heels. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out the deafening silence around him. _

_ The rooftop should have felt hard under his feet, but his legs felt strangely frozen despite how he ran. Below, Gotham lay uncharacteristically still and silent. Not even the dead could wake this city, and Tim was struck by the feeling of wrong, wrong _ wrong. 

_ He sprinted faster, tearing across the skyline, but it wasn’t quick enough. He had to run now or he would be too late _ again _ and Tim would be carrying the conscience of another life burned too fast. _

_ All it took was one misstep, one hurried glance behind him, and he was falling, crashing into the rooftop and sprawling into a sickly puddle of blood. It coated his hands and splattered his face. Dark red soaked into his cape and the heavy, metallic stench of death engulfed him when he breathed it into his lungs. _

_ His breath hitched and Tim tried to scramble to his feet, pushing desperately at the ground to gain some distance between him and the horrific mess. But the more frantic his movements grew, the more his hands slipped. _

_ It was too familiar—too much—and he couldn’t get away. He felt the panic crawling up his throat, threatening to choke him and— _

“—im? Tim wake up!”

His stomach flipped and Tim bolted upright, scrambling to throw aside the covers in a vain attempt to prevent what was about to happen. 

Bruce, reflexes lightning fast as ever, shoved a bin below Tim’s head right before he retched stomach acid and remnants of his meager breakfast into it, burning his throat and causing hot tears to prick at his eyes. Tim’s head throbbed and it was all he could do to gasp for breath around the panicked cry that escaped his lips.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” A gentle hand pushed his bangs away from his face. “You’re here, everything is okay, you’re safe.”

Tim latched onto the words like a vice, rational thoughts starting to seep through his terror. He hadn’t meant to truly fall asleep in the room. The sky outside was dark, much darker than when he should have been up and leaving for dinner, which— 

Oh. Dinner.

_ Shit. _

“I—” Whatever Tim was going to say to Bruce was cut off when he threw up again and squeezed his eyes shut. The universe must really be trying to punish Tim for something because this _ sucked. _

Finally, his stomach let up enough for him to catch his breath, and Bruce’s arms maneuvered him so he was no longer hunched over the bin. “Do you think you’re going to throw up again?”

Tim shook his head tightly in response, although he still felt sick. Bruce gently took the foul-smelling bin from his grip and pulled him close, tucking Tim under his chin while rubbing circles on his back. 

“I was worried when you missed dinner. Especially when you didn’t answer your phone.”

_ Worried. _ That was Bruce-speak for terrified out of his mind. If Tim thought he was at peak misery before, the mountain of guilt that suddenly piled onto his chest proved him woefully wrong. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, his overheated forehead still resting against Bruce’s fancy button down. “I didn’t think it was going to get this bad.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Bruce asked seriously.

Tim stiffened. This was the part he had been dreading. Because he had known this was a stupid idea from the start. He had been acutely aware that he was probably too sick to be here, but he had known this trip was a rare opportunity, unlikely to happen again soon, and so he had come anyway. 

Because if the past few years of his life had taught Tim anything, it was that the limited time he got to spend with his loved ones was too precious to let slip by. He didn’t want to waste this small chance to just be with Bruce while he had it. 

Not that it had really done him much good.

“Tim,” Bruce’s voice was quiet at Tim’s lack of response. His hand cupped the back of Tim’s head and he gently stroked his hair back with a concerned look. The gesture was so sweet and achingly familiar that Tim’s eyes fluttered shut, his resolve crumbling. 

“I missed you,” He admitted, looking down to avoid Bruce’s reaction. “We never get the chance to do this and I—I didn’t want to turn around and waste it. I’m sorry I ruined it by not telling you.” He ignored the way his eyes stung as he choked out the words.

This was so stupid, he should have just stayed home, saved himself the trouble of dealing with the disappointment. 

“You haven’t ruined anything,” Bruce said, surprising him with the gentleness in his voice, “I wish you had told me, but I’m not mad.” 

Tim shook his head, unable to form words. Bruce should be upset. Even if they were probably going to have a long discussion about hiding things later, it didn’t change the fact that Tim had lied to him about being sick thinking he could handle it and screwed it up anyway, ghosting the board dinner and scaring Bruce in the process. 

Bruce paused, seeming to search for the right words. “Tim, you know that I’m…you shouldn’t have to do this just to have time together.” His voice was tinged with regret, which only succeeded in making Tim feel worse.

“I’m sorry if—”

Tim cut him off, not wanting Bruce to apologize further when he was the one to blame anyway. “It’s not your fault B. I haven’t really been free either.”

Bruce made a small noise of disagreement. “I promised to be there for you when I signed those adoption papers, and that extends to everyday types of problems too, not just for when things get hard. When we get home I’ll fix my schedule and make sure that there’s time set aside for us. Okay?”

“You don’t have to,” Tim sniffed, feeling guilty.

“Maybe, but I’m going to anyway.”

_ You’re important to me, _ the words went unsaid, but they stirred something in Tim’s chest nonetheless. Just having the reminder that Bruce was there, that he cared about him and wanted Tim to be able to rely on him made his insides warm and fuzzy in a way reminiscent of his middle school days. He hadn’t been Bruce’s son back then, but even so, somewhere between the nights of cold rooftop stakeouts and bleary conversations over breakfast Bruce had come to mean more to him than anyone had in a long time. 

It was nice to know that although so much in his life had changed since then, Bruce caring about him had not. 

“Thank you,” Tim’s voice cracked and he leaned into the hug.

Bruce responded by pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “Anytime kiddo.”

“When we get back do you think...could we watch _ The Voyage Home? _ I’ve been wanting to rewatch it since forever.”

“Oh, you mean this movie? The one I already rented for us?” Bruce pulled away, grinning sharply as he held up the offending DVD.

“Yes!!” Tim couldn’t help his breath of excitement. It was a proven fact that Star Trek made everything better.

Bruce handed him the movie. “How about you set this up and I’ll see what I can do about getting some medicine and food up here. Is soup okay? We can order hot chocolate later if you’re feeling up for it.”

“That sounds perfect,” Tim smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wasting time extensively researching minor details to include in stories is fun because now Google thinks I’m trying to book a private plane to LA and spend a small fortune on dinner there.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, I’d love to know what you think!
> 
> [Find me on my batfam sideblog](https://musingsofthesky.tumblr.com)


End file.
